Save Me, Butler!
by FragrantAlmond
Summary: [AU][DenNor][DenFem!Ice] One prince. One princess. One butler. One arranged marriage. One hundred secrets. How much would one risk for an unwanted relationship? How many times would one risk their life for a simple friendship... and more?
1. The News

The Danish prince groaned to the blinding light of the sun, curling under the blankets in protest. Mathias was never an early riser and he hated how the curtains were already drawn before he even woke up. He was just about ready to whine for the butler when the opening of his bedroom door stopped him from doing so. From the corner of his eye, he could see the butler – no, _his_ butler – who was a blonde haired and blue-eyed man, named Lukas Bondevik, and also the man responsible for stirring the prince from his slumber. Despite the fact that the prince hated the action, his butler was loyal and exceedingly well-mannered. However, it was also noted by the prince that he was too quiet, too cold and too serious; and because of this the prince has always been intrigued by his butler's mysterious personality.

Lukas bowed in respect as he stood at the entrance of the prince's bedroom. "Your breakfast is ready... Sir?" the butler raised an eyebrow at the large lump on the bed, which shifted uneasily at the sound of his voice. Sighing, he lifted the blankets, drawing out a high-pitched wince underneath. Funny, he expected more of a growl as he did on other days, like taking a bone away from a hungry dog.

"She's here, isn't she?" Mathias bitterly asked, looking up from beneath the pile of pillows stacked on his head.

Lukas took a moment to think, nodding as he replied, "Yes, sir." He then placed the tray with the prince's breakfast on the desk next to the bed - slices of rye and white bread stacked on top of another on a warmed plate, and around it lined a wide selection of cheeses and jams. Since the prince was horribly indecisive on such trivial matters, Lukas took the time to master the "perfect" breakfast. He knew each bread slice had to be exactly 10cm by 10cm and 1cm thick, that there should only be 2 types of bread to choose from, and in contrast, many cheeses and jams to indulge in, all done to avoid the possibility that the prince may dislike the solitary meal provided, lose his appetite, and stave himself to death.

"Great." Mathias forced a smile. He then picked up a slice of bread from the tray and proceeded to evenly lavish it with thick strawberry jam, the one concealed in a medium sized pot to the far right of the tray. As he was eating, he thought about the plans for the day. Today he was going to meet his "fiancée" – or more like forced bride-to-be since it was all his parents' idea to get an arranged marriage with the Icelandic royal family's daughter – 'the jewel to their crown' – Princess Erika. From his parents' vague description of 'pretty' and 'nice', Mathias had come to a quick negative conclusion that Erika was an aloof girl and never wavering in her parents' requests, which was probably one of the reasons why she agreed to this nuptial. He took the last bite of his bread and smirked. Now that Mathias thought about it, looking up at his butler's dull face, Erika sounded just like a female version of Lukas.

"They arrived an hour ago, actually."

After finishing the bread, Mathias prepared to make another, this time topping the white bread with a slice of sheep's milk cheese and a black cherry confit. He warily bit on it, slightly unsure of the combination, but minutes later, smiled and made a sign of approval. At the same time he continued to nonchalantly nod at his butler's words.

Lukas gave a small sigh, mentally shaking his head at the prince's short attention span. "The guests are currently waiting in the–"

"–wait, what?!" Mathias jerked from his bed. The pillows fell on the floor at the sudden movement. He glanced at the rustic grandfather clock from across the room, narrowing his eyes as he checked the time and finding out that he was indeed an hour late. "I'm late!" he finally yelped.

Upon crossing his arms, Lukas let out an exasperated sigh.

Swiftly getting off the bed, he grabbed his clothes for the day, which were already ironed and folded by his butler, quickly changed and made his way to the door. "Ah, Bondevik?"

Lukas quickly unfolded his arms and laid them on his side. "Yes, sir?" he inquired.

Flashing an affectionate smile, he slipped out a small 'thanks' before heading to the living room where his guests were waiting patiently, leaving a slightly confused, pink-faced butler alone in the room.

* * *

The large hall was filled with many guests, all from different kingdoms of the world. Groups formed between relatives, friends and acquaintances, and could either be seen speaking enthusiastically or quietly amongst each other. Some of the older guests reclined on the sofa and spoke languidly with dull faces. Whilst a group in the far corner spoke earnestly in their fine business suits (probably the King's associates). Honestly, Mathias didn't recognise any of them, and he was pretty sure many of the guests didn't recognise that he was the groom-to-be.

The Danish prince stood on his tiptoes and peered over the crowd, where he saw a large, white door at the end of the room that enclosed a seperate but private room belonging to his father. There was even a shakey looking guard in front of the door that stood as straight as a trembling pillar, who stopped anyone that tried to pass through. After he swam across the sea of individuals and reached the end of the room, Mathias ordered the guard to let him through (which was obediently followed), and entered the secret chamber.

"–and with this marriage I hope our countries will continue to support each other in the future!" a voice roared jubilantly.

"Yes, I could not agree more," replied another voice, but with half the enthusiasm as the other.

The sound of the doors opening promptly stopped the conversation between the two men. "Ah, the prince, and our future king has arrived!" the first man rejoiced.

Mathias watched as a giant got up from his seat and steadily approached him. The man was exceptionally loud and stout; his voice bellowed like thunder and his heavy footsteps shook the palace floors as if it had the ability to create earthquakes. He also wore a triumphant grin which, to Mathias, looked absolutely sickening.

Mathias knew the man all too well. He knew that the man was only happy because, in due time, he will finally be able to take a share of the Danish Kingdom's land and riches. Mathias clenched his fists at the thought. _Oh, how foolish father was..._

Mathias shared a brief handshake with the man, and then seated himself a little stiffly as if not altogether comfortable, as across from him was his father and the stranger, who introduced himself as the King of Iceland. _Now that brought back memories_. A smile danced on his face as remembered how the man would always bring him presents when he was younger. He mentally chuckled when he remembered the time when he received his own gun at the age of 10, as "Mathias was the prince of Denmark, and he should have everything a boy could wish for!" And so, from that moment, Mathias concluded that no man could ever win his trust solely on giving him toys – just because he was a prince it doesn't make him a materialistic person!

"_Mathias_."

The Dane woke from his reminiscing phase, blinking in confusion. "Y-Yes?"

"I need to have a private conversation with the king, could you excuse us for a while?"

"Um, yes, of course," Mathias stood up and left the room without question.

"Mathias, sorry," the said man's father called, and when Mathias returned he continued, "but Princess Erika will be here shortly so don't stay out there for too long."

"Yes, father."

Then, the doors closed, leaving the two kings, their straight faces slowly turning into a state of sweaty agitation.


	2. The Maze Garden

If Mathias was to choose his favourite place in the palace it would be the maze garden. So unsurprisingly that is where he went. As he stepped into the maze garden (one of the many gardens they own) he noticed a figure slowly disappear though the hedges that built the maze. He decided to follow the figure with caution. But as he turned around a corner to take a quick glimpse at the person, he was met with four pathways. He cursed under his breath, knowing that he lost the person. Remembering the day when he got lost in the maze as a child, he then opted to leave:

_"You may open your eyes now."_

_Slowly and carefully, Mathias opened his eyes. For his seventh birthday he had asked for a maze garden, he had told his parents that many of his friends owned one in their palace and that if he had a maze garden one day he could invite them to play. And now his dream finally came true. Big blue eyes stared in awe. Fresh, well-cut green hedges faced in all sorts of direction that stood tall in front of Mathias, and surrounding it were a diverse array of plants, from the common 'Yellow Azalea' to his favourite flowers: the 'Marguerite Daisy' and 'Red Clover'. He requested that one of his favourite flowers could be the national flower of Denmark, but in the end his father never chose a flower emblem. Nevertheless, Mathias was grateful for the garden. He hoped that one day he could bring someone special to the maze._

_"Five... four..."_

_The sound of rushed footsteps raced around the garden._

_"... three... two..."_

_Suddenly the footsteps stopped and were replaced by light murmuring and giggling._

_"... one."_

_A loud 'shh' was made. Then, silence came._

_Mathias swallowed, parting his hands from his face. All he had to do now is find them. The young Dane wandered around the maze garden, admiring the captivating scenery and contemplating on how perfectly sculptured each hedge was. Knowing his father as a man who liked accuracy and precision in his work, Mathias would not be surprised if his family owned the most beautiful maze garden in the country, especially when his father hired Berwald Oxenstierna - a professional maze maker (or whatever they are called). Mathias giggled and smirked as he jumped over small hedges, turned around many corners and ran through tall hedges. After running into a particular hedge, a light thud was made and Mathias found himself staring into the sky with leaves showering on him from above like green snowflakes. He laid there, hands rested on his rising chest and a content look plastered on his youthful face. The longer he watched the leaves fall the heavier his eyelids felt. Then he fell into a long nap._

Acknowledging the fact that he was lost, he now regretted ever entering the maze again. He turned around to leave and followed what he thought was the way out, though after five minutes of walking he met a dead end. Exhausted and frustrated, Mathias dropped to his knees, burying his face in his sweaty palms. If only the child that saved him back then was here to save him again. Mathias never forgot the child that came back to find him...

_"Are you lost?"_

_Mathias gazed up to the sound of the voice, his eyes swollen from panic, fear and desperation. His vision was blurry from the pool of tears that refused to fall from his eyes, and so he had no idea who stood in front of him. A hand stretched down from the figure and, without hesitating, Mathias grabbed onto the stranger's hand and pulled himself up with all his might. From the dark sky and the chilly yet crisp evening air, Mathias knew he was stuck in the maze for a long time. He turned to the kid that saved him. Even though it was too dark to make out the features of their face, the glint of the cross-shaped hair pin was enough for Mathias to remember who it was, so that one day he could thank them._

"Are you lost?"

Mathias gazed up to the sound of the voice. A girl with long, silver-white hair that curled inward to her face stood in front of him. She wore a deep brown dress and white half-laced boots, her hands were also covered with a pair of white, silk gloves.

"No, I was... playing..."

"What were you playing?"

"Ah... Um... Hide and seek," he lied, eyes darting side to side.

"With who?" The girl looked down at the prince with an unimpressed look, one that possibly conveyed thoughts such as 'why would he play such an childish game at his age'.

"Actually, I was playing... with," Mathias scanned his surroundings carefully, searching for an excuse. But when he saw no signs for a legitimate reason as to say why he was stuck in the middle of a maze, his face flushed from worry and down on his knees, there was no choice but to make it up. So, the Danish prince rose to his feet and coolly started to brush off the dirt from his suit.

"Princess Erika," he finally answered. "I was playing with Princess Erika," he then went on more confidently, and at the same time secretly hoping the girl didn't know who she was.

The girl blinked a few times, her emotionless eyes switching to perplexed purple ones, and then the corner of her lips formed a (very) small smile. "I see. I will be leaving then." The girl turned around and was about to walk away but was stopped when the prince called out a faint 'Wait!'. She turned around and her hair spun swiftly with her.

_She is immensely beautiful,_ he thought.

"Yes?" came the sweet response.

Mathias ran towards the mysterious girl, his heart thumping as he spoke. "Please, let me walk with you. I will never forgive myself if you ended up getting lost."

The girl shared no reply but simply led the way, with the prince trailing behind her like a lost dog.

* * *

The ringing of bells indicated that the butler was about to enter the room. An old man stood by the large door, holding a wooden tray with a pot of black tea and two tea cups made of the finest pieces of china and a selection of Danish pastries. "Tea, sir," the man said as he placed the tray on the glass coffee table. After pouring the tea, the man left.

The King of Iceland shifted to a more comfortable position in his seat, lifted the tea cup and took a light sip, and then setting the cup on the table again. "I must ask. How is the boy?"

The Danish king held the man's gaze. The question was ambiguous, but he understood what the man meant. "Do you mean my son?" he questioned in response.

The other's expression fell. "No Felix, I mean, _my_ son."

"Ah, you mean 'Mr. Bondevik'?" Felix took a sip of his tea. "Well, why don't you meet him." He turned around and was about to reach for the bell when the man sat opposite from him stopped him.

"No! Felix, you know I must not see him!"

The Danish king retracted his hand and was now facing the other. "Do you remember what you did to the boy?" Felix's tone was sharp and his eyes were fixed directly upon the man's worry-filled ones.

"I was in a state of desperation!" The Icelandic King retorted, pointing at the other man. "You accepted the deal as much as I did."

"But you had no right to do what you did. He's not even your legitimate son." Felix argued.

"Of course he isn't my legitimate son! If he was then there would be no reason for me to commit such an action!"

A loud bang, followed by a high pitched crack and the dripping of liquid silenced the two kings. Their eyes left each others' and landed on the broken china laying dead on the floor, whilst hot tea overflowed from the coffee table, staining the floors a bright reddish gold.

After hearing what seemed to be a hand slamming the table and a tea cup shattering, the old butler rushed in the room to immediately clean up the mess.

"Remember, this day is a cause for celebration. Let us not ruin this momentous occasion by attending to past complications."

Felix cleared his throat and stood up. "Quite right. I also believe it is time we should formally greet our guests and officially announce the engagement."

Already forgetting their arguement, the Icelandic King nodded in agreement and followed his host into the large hall.


	3. A Memory: Part 1

_"Mother, where are we going?" A small boy asked his mother. She was trembling. From her hands, to her fingers, to her knees. And the boy started to worry. Is she sick? Are we going the wrong way? He firmly placed his hands on his knees to prevent them from trembling too. How awfully cautious he was. For all he knew, it could just be the movements of the carriage they were riding on._

_He looked to his right. The scenery was unfamiliar, though it had a slight resemblance to his home back in Norway. The carriage drove through a smooth road with orange, yellow and brown trees on each side - a sign that summer had ended and was the start of autumn. A brown leaf fell from one of the trees, as was the custom of the season, and the boy reached out to grab it. He marvelled at the leaf, and a surge of ideas sprang to his mind, wondering about how its life began and how it will end when winter arrives._

_Suddenly the carriage stopped. Alarmed, the boy's hand shook and the leaf fell spiralling down to the ground. When he got off the carriage, he was about to bend down to reach the leaf when the butler held his hand and directed him to face his mother, who was still sitting in her seat._

_"Are you not coming mother?" The boy asked._

_His pale mother gave a half-hearted smile, and then leaned over to plant a kiss on her son's forehead. "The King is a good man. Please listen to everything he has to say."_

_He didn't understand._

_The butler led the boy to the front door of the palace, where the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man. The man smiled and dropped on one knee, held the boy by his side and enveloped him in a hug. The boy had a confused look plastered on his face. Why is this man hugging him?_

_The clatter of horses walking surprised the boy and he turned around to look at the carriage. The carriage was no longer there but already far away in the distance. _

_"Mother!" called out the boy. He freed himself from the man's grasp to run after the carriage, although, his actions were ceased when a firm grip enveloped one of his wrists._

_"Lukas Bondevik."_

_The boy turned back around. How did this man know his name? "I have to go! Mother left me!" he exclaimed._

_"She will be back," the man reassured and he placed his hand on the boy's golden locks. "She will be back. Trust me."_

___Lukas reflected on his mother's words: 'The King is a good man. Please listen to everything he has to say' _

___Remembering this, Lukas_ nodded in agreement.

_"Now, I have to ask you some questions."_

_"Yes, sir?"_

_"How old are you?"_

_"Four, sir."_

_The king nodded as well. "Tell me, what is your father's name?"_

_Lukas swallowed. "I don't know, sir." He glanced aside, hurt laced in his words. "I've never met him."_

_"I see." The king said getting up._

_Lukas looked up at the king, curious as to why he would ask about his father. Even mother avoided such a topic. He had no idea why he wasn't allowed any information on his father. He asked countless times and tried discreetly hinting on the subject but to no avail. To see the anger and annoyance his mother felt everytime he mentioned the topic hurt him, and so Lukas stopped asking._

_The king softly released Lukas' wrist, placed his hand onto his and lead him inside the palace. "Do you know why you are here?"_

_Lukas shook his head as he walked. The palace was definitely much grander inside. Upon entering, his eyes wandered at the gold ceilings in complete amazement. They were ardorned with a wide array of jewels and expensive stones. Some were covered in emeralds and amethysts which shone like the lustre of the Northern Lights. This place was nothing like his home back in Norway. Nothing compared to the small, white bricked house he and his mother lived in._

_"Ah. But do you know what a butler is?"_

_Lukas took a quick glimpse at the king and nodded only to feign interest. He then diverted his eyes on the fine antiques that stood on top white pillars and realistic oil portraits that decorated the walls. He was much too interested in the interior decorations; it is only once in a while that one can visit such a picturesque place._

_"It's good that you know." The king stopped walking and this caused Lukas to do the same._

_"Father! You must come and see this, I just... I just..." a boy roughly Lukas' age came speedily down the stairs. He wore a red shirt with its sleeves folded half way up his arm, black trousers, and a black tie. After witnessing another boy beside his father, his wide grin faded from his face and his voice then trailed off. "Uh..."_

_"Oh! Good timing. I have news to inform concerning the both of you."_

_Mathias approached his father and looked up at him. "What is it, father?"_

_"Mr. Bondevik." The king looked at Lukas and then gestured to the boy beside him. "This is my son, Mathias." Afterwards, the king faced the boy beside him and gestured to Lukas. __"Son. This is Mr. Bondevik."_

_Mathias stepped forward so that he faced Lukas. He was a head taller than him. His hair wasn't neatly combed like he expected it to be of high class people, but it wasn't in a mess either; it was sort of in the middle, short and spiked up to the side. He stretched his hand out and the smile he wore earlier appeared once again. "__Hej med jer_,___" he greeted._

_Lukas blinked. Hesitantly, he shook the boy's hand. Did he just speak in a different language?_

_"I forgot to mention, sorry, Lukas is Norweigan." The king apologised to his son._

_"Oh, okay." Mathias gave a quick glare to his father and, looking rather embarrassed, turned back to Lukas. "I meant 'hallo'."_

_In return, Lukas nodded in understanding. "Nice to meet you."_

_After the introduction, the king held the two newly aquainted boys by the shoulders. "Mr. Bondevik, remember when I asked if you knew what a butler was?"_

_Lukas nodded again. Of course he knew. Who doesn't know? However, what Lukas didn't know was that the words he was about to hear next would inevitably change his life..._

_"That is because your purpose in coming here... is to become one," The king continued, "to become my son's personal butler."_


	4. An Unexpected Twist

It only took a few minutes for the pair to leave the maze and, after doing so, the prince gave a long sigh of relief.

"Thank you... very much," he breathed.

"For what?"

"For helping me find the exit of..." Realising what he was saying, Mathias froze and slowly swallowed the thick lump of unsaid words in his throat.

The girl let out a small giggle, placing her gloved hand over her mouth. After realising what she had done, she turned bashfully to her side.

In turn, the prince also turned to face the opposite direction, reaching to scratch the back of his short, wild blond hair. He could feel his face grow warmer and his heart beat even faster than before (and he knew it wasn't from the tiring walk around the maze). If he couldn't control his emotions for this girl then marrying Princess Erika would be impossible!

"This Princess Erika," the girl started as she walked ahead, "what is she like?"

Seeing the girl walking away, the prince caught up to her and they promenaded side by side along the path which led to another garden. "If I could recall my earlier thoughts of her... I concluded that she was 'an aloof girl and never wavering of her parents' decisions which was why she agreed to this nuptial'," came the recited-like reply.

"Really?"

"Why do you seem shocked? Ah, let me guess. Is it because you expected a description along the lines of 'sweet, kind and faithful'?" chuckled the prince.

"How very stereotypical," the girl criticised jokingly. "Are you saying princesses can't be cold, egocentric or unfaithful?" She turned around, giving the prince the attentive eye. "They are humans too, you know."

"I do not think anyone should be cold, egocentric or unfaithful." The blonde prince remarked. He closed the distance between the girl and himself and placed a finger under her chin. "Are _you_ princess?"

Wide eyed, the girl's chest rose and her cheeks flushed a light pink. Did he know? How could he? Was it her speech? Maybe she was being too informal. Or was she being too clever. She pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"Prince Mathias, I–"

"I'm kidding!" The prince chortled, gliding a finger to wipe a tear in his right eye. "Hey, I want to show you something." He held the girl's hand and led her down a beautiful stone pathway in the far end of the garden.

Silver stands flowed in the current of the wind. The girl had to hold her hair down to keep them from tangling with each other. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." They reached the end of the garden: a long green wall stood in front of them which indicated this. "Watch this." And as if by magic, the prince rubbed the green wall to reveal a small, arched wooden door. The moss which covered the door fell and blended with the tall, dark green grass.

"What is that?" inquired the girl as she inspected the door's antique appearance.

"This is a space I always kept hidden as a child." Mathias clasped the door knob and twisted it. When the door didn't budge, he shook it vigorously until he heard a 'crack' and the door squeaked open. He motioned for the girl to enter, and she did, ducking her head in order to fit in the low-ceiling room, with him following behind.

The girl surveyed the area. Signs that the place was abandoned for a long time were evident, as she saw strings of cobwebs stuck to the corners of the room and random items clothed with a layer of dust.

Mathias found two small stools and wiped it clean. They then sat on them.

"Every day, since my seventh birthday, I would come here, and ponder in the solitude of my thoughts. Most of the time, alone. Sometimes with my butler, whenever I needed company. Whenever I got angry or upset, this is the first place I would go to. And I would instantly feel at peace." Mathias told.

"I know how you feel. I, too, had an area in my bedroom where I secluded myself from the world."

"Woah, really?" Mathias leaned back in on the stool until his back rested on the wall. "It's great that others can relate." He then turned to her and gave a heart-warming smile.

A young butler came into sight in the distance which caused the prince to revert back to his normal state. Seeing it was Lukas, Mathias waved his arm in the air.

Lukas saw two figures in the old, "playhouse" thing he often visited as a child. He approached the pair and bowed slightly. "Sir, the King requires your presence."

"Ah, I almost forgot!" Mathias turned to the girl, looking slightly disappointed. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. I think Princess Erika has arrived." He turned to Lukas. "Can you escort this lady to the main room? I will take a different route."

Lukas helped the girl leave the room and waited for the prince to get out as well.

"Thank you. I will leave first." He thanked his butler. Turning to the girl once again, he asked, "Will I see you again?"

The girl looked at the prince with a fond smile. "Definitely".

Mathias glowed in happiness at the girl's radiant smile. It was cliché, but he felt as if his stomach held a butterfly sanctuary, where at this very second, a million butterfies were finally released from captivaty. He bid her farewell and proceeded to run through the garden's exit and make his way to the palace, though took one last glimpse of the girl he left behind, only to find her out of sight. The prince bit his lip and continued down a long hallway in a slow walking pace. The main room was only a few meters away, but to Mathias, it felt like miles away.

* * *

"Does the prince know my true identity?" The silver haired princess spoke. Beside her was the prince's butler, who cleverly hid his shock in the sudden engagement in conversation with his downcast eyes. They were on their way to the main hall for the announcement of the engagement, although taking a much shorter route to the one the prince took.

"From the way he acted I do not think he knows."

"Tell me, Mr...?"

"Bondevik."

"Yes." She went on, switching to her natural, apathetic, inscrutable face. She was already sick of using her "girly" facade. With the prince out of sight and only a mere butler to accompany her, she was finally free to express her true emotions. "So, what was Prince Mathias like as a child?"

Lukas perked up to the question, but still retained his vacant look. "A child?"

"Did I stutter?" Piercing purple eyes struck at Lukas' blue ones. "Or is your hearing moderately damaged?"

Lukas frowned inwardly. He really did not expect her to have a rude personality. The thought of Prince Mathias taking interest in her caused his hands to ball into a tight fist. Averting her gaze, replied. "No, I heard it clearly, I just-"

"Good." She never failed to possess an irritated countenance at others' rhetorical questions. To her, it was simply a waste of time. When one asks a question, it is the social convention to respond with an answer. "I suppose you must be very close to him, seeing that you are his butler."

Lukas was about to reply, but was abruptly interrupted.

"Or were you not working for him then? You would have been around the same age as him. Now that would be highly unlikely for you to do such a job at such a young age."

"Actually, I did." Lukas confirmed quite proudly. He kept his head low as he spoke. "He was very polite and compassionate; one may even say he was quite mature for his age. He was respectable of his parent's desires. A good listener... Selfless... Optimistic."

As he listed all his master's good attributes, Lukas could not stop his face from heating up. Were the descriptions too much? Herregud! He didn't want to sound like a little girl describing her secret admirer! Seriously, if he couldn't control himself right now, he would rip his hair out in a fit of agitation.

"You sound..."

_Herregud. No. Don't say it._

"... confident in your response. I guess I can trust you."

_Oh._

They finally reached the main room, where a large group of people crowded near the entrance to await for the prince's arrival.

* * *

Mathias straightened himself to look presentable. As he was about to open the doors, a strange feeling started to spread on his chest, causing him to desperately cling to his white tie. He paused and tried to breathe normally, inhaling and exhaling, repeating the action again and again. He wasn't ready. Honestly, he was nervous. He didn't want this engagement. Princess Erika, who was undoubtedly in the other side of the door, probably didn't want this engagement either. But he was the heir. And so was she. He could not possibly upset his father. And the reason may be the same for her.

The sight of two brown patches on his knees elicited an irritated whine from the prince. He dropped to one knee and started rubbing the stain off with incredible force. Suddenly, the doors before him opened and a bright light shone in front of him. He raised an arm to block the light. Mathias froze at the sight before him. Looked up. Swallowed.


	5. A Memory: Part 2

_Suddenly, the door before him opened and a bright light shone in front of him. He raised an arm to block the light. Mathias froze at the sight before him. __Looked up. __Swallowed._

_"Is this real?" the Dane whispered. He got up and stared with his mouth agape at what seemed to be his own playhouse. When he received news that he was going to get a maze garden, he was ecstatic. But being given a playhouse as a second surprise birthday gift? He was over the moon. _

_He walked inside the newly furnished room, not even caring to brush the dirt off his white trousers, which stained them with two brown patches on each side. The light intensified and the objects in the room became more noticeable. Blue eyes brightened like the morning sky. To begin with, the walls were decorated with blue and white wallpaper with images of anchors patterned on it. Next were the floors, which was coloured a bold scarlet red and felt like it was made of the smoothest carpet material. Furthermore, around the room was a selection of oak furniture such as tables, chairs and cupboards. And lastly, around four opened chests huddled on the corner which were filled with many, many toys! It was like having another bedroom and a toy store combined._

_"Father, this is amazing! Look, I fit through the door." Mathias exclaimed and waved his arms in the air. He turned around and let out a quiet snigger. "I don't think you can though." _

_The king chuckled. "I am glad you enjoy it. Now, you boys have fun and take care of this place," he then __said and patted the door before leaving._

_After the king left, Mathias motioned for his butler to enter. "Come inside Bondevik." _

_"Yes sir." Carefully, Lukas entered the room._

_BAM! Mathias collapsed on the carpet floor and closed his eyes. "Tomorrow I shall start school again." _

_On the other hand, Lukas stood near the wall that was to the right of the prince, both hands on his back. "Really?"_

_Mathias nodded. "School is very different to home tutoring, you know - well, you wouldn't know. There's more than one teacher and they all specialise in a different subject. The classroom is massive and it holds a lot of children. Also, you get your own desk to write on. For our 30 minute break we eat our lunch and then we go out to play in the football field. We also learn something new everyday! Did you know that there are 365 days in a year?"_

_"I did not know that." Lukas glanced to the floor. "Your school sounds fun."_

_"Yeah..." A sigh escaped Mathias' lips. __"But I wish you could come with me. The first year was great, but I felt lonely at times, even when I was around my new friends. It's not fun when I don't get to talk to you for half the day. My friends __in school don't understand me like you do."_

_"I have only known you for three days."_

_"Don't you mean three YEARS?"_

_"In those three years, I have spent 3 days talking to you and 1092 days in training."_

_Mathias took a peek at his butler and huffed. Despite lacking in education, his butler must be unusually smart to be able to remember and manipulate information that quickly. "Maybe I SHOULD take you to school one day."_

_"I hope you are not serious."_

_"I am!"_

_"I could not possibly..."_

_"You could!" exclaimed Mathias, suddenly sitting up with bright, enthusiastic eyes. "I could ask father; he hardly denies my requests."_

_Deep inside, Lukas REALLY wanted to go to school. Just hearing about the possibility of learning new information sent a buzz of energy in him. _

_"If you say so..." Lukas responded blankly, as well as trying to conceal his excitement._

_For the whole afternoon the two boys spoke to each other in the playhouse, and seldom left. The young Dane taught the other about science and history and mathematics, and the young Norwegian listened intently in an attempt to mentally take notes. Similarly, the Dane took note of the other's cleverness. _

_"This boy deserved to go to school," Mathias thought, and he would do whatever it takes for it to happen._

* * *

_It was 7:00am and the prince and his butler were busy preparing the items needed for school. Whilst Lukas was cleaning the room and arranging the school supplies, Mathias was in front of the mirror, changing into his school uniform. _

_"Hey, Bondevik."_

_"Hm."_

_"Where is my coat?" _

_"Which coat, sir?_

_"The long and black one."_

_In an instant, Lukas walked up to one of the wardrobes and, as if he remembered the order of the clothes, grabbed the desired coat and handed it to the prince. "Here."_

_"Wow. Thanks." Curious as to how the other found his coat so quickly, Mathias walked up to the same wardrobe and looked inside. He gawked at how neatly arranged all his clothes were. They were organised perfectly: from an area of formal wear to his everyday suites. It was even colour coordinated! Mathias could not help but smile; he was truly impressed with his butler's abilities._

_After putting on his coat, Mathias and his butler made their way downstairs and into the living room._

_The king, the queen, and all the servants in the household gathered to greet the young prince on his new year of primary school. Apparently, the prince was attending a popular and prestige private school. Lukas was just as clueless as the prince on the meaning of this, but the king insisted that it is better than a public school. Obviously, Lukas didn't know the difference. He has never attended school before. Not even pre-primary._

_"Are you ready?" The king asked his son._

_"Ever since my first day."_

_When the prince left the house and rode on the carriage where he was taken to school, the excitement in the atmosphere dissipated and everyone resumed to their daily jobs. However, Lukas' heart was beating fast. Today was a special day for him as it was for the prince, for it was the last day of his three year training in becoming a butler. He could even remember his first day of training as a four year old child as if it happened yesterday. And now he just couldn't believe it was coming to an end._

_His instructor, Mr. Beilschmidt, had arrived for his final lesson. He wore a white dress shirt, black trousers and a black waist coat - the typical outfit of a butler. A gold chain also hung from his waist coat pocket which was where he kept his pocket watch. "Mr. Bondevik?" he called out. _

_Determination sparked in the young butler's eyes. Five hours from now, he would officially become the personal butler of the Prince of Denmark. The thought of it gave him mixed feelings. Taking a deep breath, he then replied:_

_"Present."_


	6. The Engagement

Mathias froze at the sight before him. Looked up. Swallowed. Around him circled all the guests, which, upon his appearance, erupted claps of sincere joy.

"Stand up, my prince."

_That voice._

Mathias saw the owner of the voice. Then, it dawned on him.

_Her hair. Her eyes. _

Mathias did as he was told. "I thought my eyes decieved me, but it really is you!"

"I told you we would definitely meet again."

A million questions raced in his mind, but upon noticing the change in outfit, there was none. There was only one thing on his mind: "I must ask. How did you change so quickly?"

His eyes wandered on every detail of the dress. The upper area was decorated with a patterened lace with strings of red lining around her neck and around the torso. The torso seemed extreamly tight, yet it successfully emphasized her petite waist. The lower area of the dress was long and it had numerous frills that swirrled and overlapped each other like a red and white star tip iced cake (the prince was fond of baking), which was also coincidently the colours of the Danish flag.

"A girl has her ways."

Mathias stared at the dress once more, and then looked up at the beauty it held. "Words alone cannot describe the magnificence of you dress."

"Then you should say: 'It is magnificent'."

"It is magnificent," repeated the prince in a whisper.

Princess Erika smiled bashfully to her side, and at her reaction the prince swore his face could expload any second.

Then suddenly he remembered the rest of the questions. Mathias held the princess' hand. "Why did you not tell me that you were Princess Erika when I first met you? I must have looked like a complete fool."

"If I had told you, you would treat me differently. Would you not? Treat me with coldness and disinterest? Now, that would be a more foolish action."

"I have said some horrid information, and if you would let me, I can only give my sincere apologies and ask for your forgiveness."

"You were only being honest, but I forgive you."

They enveloped each other into a loving embrace. Both kings looked at each other in surprise, wondering how the pair had become so close despite just knowing each other just this day.

Princess Erika peered over her fiancé's shoulder. When her eyes met those of the blonde butler from before, her lips formed a sickening sweet smirk, and she turned to whisper some words in her fiancé's ear, and upon hearing them, caused the prince to release her, caress her face tenderly, and then hug her again.

The words that the princess whispered were far too inaudible for Lukas to comprehend, but the prince's actions were completely visible to him. Out of nowhere, his knees felt numb and his stomach started to clench in severe agony. Terribly weakened, he slowly slid down the wall from where he stood and fell helplessly to the ground. He clutched onto his abdomen. Why was this happening? He looked back at the princess, who was drifting off into the crowd with the prince hand in hand. Then his stomach clenched tighter, and he moaned pitifully. He was sick. Yes. That was the only explanation.

He got up, and, after regaining his balace, he headed for the door, ultimately exiting the main hall.

The king made his way to his seat, and so the guests followed by returning to their assigned tables. "I would like to welcome everybody attending the engagement of, my son, Prince Mathias of Denmark and Princess Erika of Iceland. I give thanks to everybody for coming together to share and celebrate the occasion." The king motioned to his side. "I also especially welcome The King and Queen of Iceland."

The said guests stood up. The King of Iceland looked very much like his daughter, with his silver hair (which may come from his old age rather than genetics) and purple eyes. In contrast the Queen of Iceland lacked similar features to her daughter, as she had blonde hair and blue eyes. The person that caught Mathias' eye the most was the Queen of Iceland, and it was not due to her features, but her expression, which lacked emotion, only feigning happiness. It confused the prince. Today, her daughter would be engaged. Is that not the dream of every mother? On the other hand, Mathias looked at the King of Iceland's expression. He was gleeful like any normal father should.

The king continued with the greetings and then proceeded to share an anecdote - probably stories of his childhood - then ending his speech with a toast

"-I am most proud of my son as a result of the engagement. May this marraige brighten his future and strengthen the bond between Denmark and Iceland."

With champagne lifted in the air, everyone cheered. As quickly as the toast lasted, the guests went in search for the engaged couple to congratulate them personally.

Feeling the cheery vibe in the atmosphere, the prince thought that maybe the marraige would be a good idea. It was clearly destined that he would marry the princess - it was also clear that princess was was destined to be the girl he fell in love with in the garden! His parents were happy. The guests were happy. Princess Erika was happy too. Overall, he should be happy. Oh, and his butler should be happy too! When was the last time he saw the man smile? Alas, never! To see a smile form on Bondevik would certainly be a sign from God that his marraige is fated.

Mathias searched all ends of the main hall, but unfortunately, his butler was nowhere to be found. He decided to leave the room and search somewhere else, but as he made his was towards the door, his actions were halted. Princess Erika stood in his way.

"My prince, you seem troubled. Who or what is it you search of?"

Mathias looked at his fiancee bitterly. "I cannot find Bondevik. So I will go search for him."

Erika coiled her arms around the prince's and pulled him as far away from the door as possible. "Why him? There are other butlers in the room who can assist to you."

"Ah, but you do not understand-"

Erika interrupted. "I will ask one of the butlers to look for him. It is your duty to engage in conversation with the guests."

Mathias' eyes were drawn back to the door and he bit his lip. The crowd around him got larger and larger that he could no longer see the princess. He was fortunate, although, that he was very tall. Notwithstanding that the room was packed with many people, he managed to peer over the guest to search once more for his butler.

Concluding that his butler was unable to be found in the room, Mathias excused his way passed the guest, as well as avoiding Princess Erika's sight, and sneakily left the room to start his search.

* * *

Lukas limped aimlessly around the palace. Despite his three years of training, which included long hours of practice in standing straight, Lukas could not even manage to support his legs for a minute in the room. All his training gone to waste. He spat curse, after curse, after curse under his breath. It only took one look. A look that summoned and wrapped thorns around his mind and stomach and legs, that crippled his thoughts and actions and rendered him vunerable.

Bursting into a random room, he searched for a bed. There was one in the middle of the room and Lukas advanced towards it like a man finding an oasis in the scorching desert heat. At the contact of the cool comforter that draped the bed, his breath hiked, and Lukas submerged into the sheets of bliss.

Recollecting memories in his past, there was only one other moment where he felt like this. It was a memory he could never forget, and once again:

_It only took one look._


	7. A Memory: Part 3

_There was a knock on the front door._

_"Bondevik, get that will you!" One of the servants called out from the kitchen._

_The fourteen year old butler obediently followed. On the other side of the front door revealed Prince Mathias... and his friend? Lukas eyed the stranger carefully. No, he has never met him before. The boy that stood beside the prince had smooth silver hair and a pale face, and other features that eastern Europeans shared. He wore a long military-style coat, large leather boots, and a pink silk scarf wrapped around his neck. He was also far taller than the prince, which made Lukas question his true age. Nevertheless, Lukas bowed at the prince and his guest. "Welcome, sir."_

_"Hey, Bondevik!" Mathias greeted. He turned to his companion. "Braginski-"_

_"Please, sir, call me 'Ivan'."_

_Mathias' face lit up and he grinned. "Sure! But you have to call me 'Mathias' next time." _

_"Of course. Also, forgive my late arrival. I have a cousin who bothers me constantly."_

_"Not a problem!" Mathias gestured to Lukas. "By the way, this is my butler: Bondevik." Then he gestured to his guest. "And, Bondevik, this is Ivan Braginski. He is a friend from school."_

_Lukas bowed again. "Greetings, Mr. Braginski."_

_Ivan gave a slight nod._

_"Ivan, __I must first retrieve an item. _Bondevik, can you show him to my room?" Mathias asked his butler before running off.

_Lukas watched with unfocused eyes as the prince entered the gardens. He wondered why the prince brought in one of his friends from school. Not that he never did. It was just that the last time the prince invited friends over was on his seventh birthday. And if he did, the prince would always notify him before hand. _

_However, his thoughts were interrupted when Ivan cleared his throat._

_Lukas shook his head and bowed for the third time. "Sorry. This way, sir." He led the way, walking up the elegant stairways. He slapped himself mentally. Was he daydreaming back then? Out of all the times and he did it in front of a guest! How rude of him._

_Finally, after passing numerous rooms and walking down endless hallways, they reached the prince's room. Ivan entered the large chamber, already impressed at the standard of the room. _

_"The prince will return shortly. Please wait patiently." Lukas was about to leave, when a large hand blocked his way, shutting the door in front of him as well as locking it._

_Out of the blue, Ivan asked in a thick Russian accent, "What is your name?"_

_Surprised as to why Ivan would ask such a question, Lukas was caught off guard, unsure of how to react. Did he not hear the prince introduce him just a few minutes ago? He was not to be blamed, though, as he was just a butler. He swallowed, and then replied as to not be rude. "Bondevik, sir."_

_"I know that. But what I mean is, what is your FIRST NAME?"_

_First name? The two heavily emphasized words echoed around his body and caused his bones to stiffen. No-one has ever asked for his first name - not even the prince. _

_"Mr. Butler, can you hear me?"_

_Purple eyes penetrated Lukas from above. Ivan's gaze intimidated him, let alone his unbelievable height and built; it was collossal compared to him._

_Ivan chuckled bitter-sweetly. "Boy, if you do not speak up, I will make sure you will be rendered mute... for a while."_

___Fear kicked him in the stomach. How did this happen? He was just a butler, damnit! What did he do to deserve this?!_

___"L-L-Lukas, sir."_

___"Do not tell me your speech is impared. Speak up!"_

___"Lukas, sir," he repeated with more volume._

___Ivan looked thoughtfully at the butler. Despite the boy being the prince's butler, he was nothing special; he shared the same characteristics as other butlers: polite and obedient. What a bore. But when ____Lukas' heavy breathing became more apparent and his lithe body started to tremble lightly, a sly____ smrik crept up Ivan's face. Then again, it would be a waste to come to the prince's palace without a little entertainment. ____He placed a hand on Lukas' shoulder._

___"You do not talk much. Why is that?" Ivan smiled and he applied more force of Lukas' shoulder. When the butler refused to respond, his countenance fell and he ordered with much potence: "Answer."_

___Beads of sweat formed on Lukas' forehead and he winced at the large muscle crushing his shoulder. The weird kicking feeling erupted in his stomach again. Unconciously, Lukas wrapped an arm around his stomach and clasped onto his waist coat. Lukas didn't understand. He was used to intimidation. He had trained for years under a strict instructor. Yet however much he thought about his training, the pain in his stomach only got worse. He could only stand with his head low and pray for the prince's arrival. _

___"Are you still not answering-"_

___"-so I wasn't able to get the VO Falcon rifle but I got this." Mathias said as he bursted into the bedroom, holding up one of his Remington rifles. The lock broke loose and flung from the door. "What do you think, Ivan?"_

___Ivan furrowed his eyebrows at the lock on the floor, but at the prince's question, his eyebrows rose and the corners of his mouth curved up into a wide smile. "It is pe____rfect!"_

___"Although it is a shame I could not show you the most expensive rifle in the world..." Oblivious to the broken lock, Mathias instead noticed Ivan's hand sitting on his butler's shoulders and the trail of sweat on the sides of his face. "Are you okay, Bondevik?"_

___"He is fine. Right, Mr. Bondevik?"_

___Lukas' kept his eyes glued to the floor; he refused to look at the eyes of his intimidator. "Yes, I... I was just shocked... that you were unable to find the gun. I will go and find it." _

___"It's fine. These will do Bondevik. Anyway, I need you to assist me today. Ivan and I are going hunting." _

___A wave of relief brushed past the butler. Hunting was not the type of sport Lukas would engage in, but because of the frequent hunting expeditions he attended with the prince, Lukas knew his fair share on the basic information of the sport. Lukas sneaked a peek at Ivan. Hopefully the hunting would keep him much occupied and free from burden._

___Without delay, Ivan and Mathias entered their carriage, whilst Lukas rode on a seperate vehicle alongside the rest of the sevants that usually came to assist._

* * *

___The king was very fond of roe deer stalking, and so his interest naturally passed down to the prince. They mainly hunted in their favourite spot, which rests on the island of Samsø. Since it was on a seperate island, Lukas would have to endure a two to three hour journey on a ferry and then take a far trek to the actual hunting area. It was a tedious job, and all for the satisfaction of the king and the prince._

___When they reached the area, Lukas would wait for long and painful hours in close watch. Most of the time he would lose concentration and his eyes would bat multiple times - until the deafening boom of the rifle would alarm the boy and his eyes would shoot open, as well as shake the eardrums of those within a close radius. The roe deer would then be fetched by the servants from its point of death and brought to the king to see. Lukas often gagged at the poignant smell of wild animal and early decay._

___Today, though, was a lucky day. A few minutes into walking through the towering, grassy field, a young deer was spotted in the far distance. The prince prepared his rifle; and with focused eyes and serious countenance, aimed for the calf's brain. _

___Behind the prince stood Ivan. Honestly, he didn't care about shooting deer. He was more drawn to the trunk of the carriage, where boxes filled with a range of cartridges laid. Ivan's eyes were set on the box labelled '.308 Winchester'. They were good cartridges which provided low recoil; however, he wasn't particularly interested in the use, his mission was to sneak in as much ammunition in his coat, take them home, and sell them in the market._

___The Russian approached the carriage and, after looking around him suspiciously, reached in for a box._

___"What are you doing?"_

___Startled, Ivan retracted his arm, spun around and placed both hands in his pockets. But seeing that it was the prince's butler, his eyes narrowed. "It is not your business. Go back to your job." _

___Lukas wasn't dumb, nor did he not____ need to be clever to understand Ivan's motives, as he _could clearly see the boxes of ammunition behind Ivan's back. It was obvious: Ivan was only here to steal ammunition.

___"I will not let you continue with your actions." Lukas said plainly._

___There was a short pause. When the words sunk into Ivan, he couldn't help but snigger at the sudden outburst of courage from the butler. "Oh, you continue to amuse me, boy... Do you know what will happen to you if you do not cooperate?" Ivan dug into his inner coat pocket and showed the other a steel pipe. "Let's just say it is not only your speech that will be rendered immobile." Then, he placed the object back in the pocket._

___"Do it if you must. But I will not let you steal the prince's possessions."_

___"Wow, you sure are a very loyal butler, but ____you are only words and no actions. Would you really _risk your own life... for him?" Ivan motioned to the prince with his eyes. ___"When you die, who will care? Would the prince care? Maybe a second. But that is it. A life time spent dedicating yourself to the prince, and all for what? A little acknoledgement? Is that what you want? To be forgotten as quickly as you were briefly remembered?"_

___BOOM! A shot was fired. The prince called out: ____"Ivan, look!" _

___Walking past the butler, Ivan added, "You are lucky today, but just watch. I will make you will pay in the future - I will make your life a misery." _

* * *

_Throughout the journey home, Lukas remained quiet and unresponsive. When they arrived at the palace, Lukas still remained quiet and unresponsive. He just watched as his master and Ivan walked around the palace and engaged in a hearty conversation._

_"Thank you, Mathias for inviting me to your abode, but I must depart. It has been a wonderful experience-"_

_"Mathias!" called out the king and he__ hurriedly approached Mathias in a state of horror. "My boy, you must see this immediately! One of our family portraits has been vandalised."_

_Absolute shock covered the prince's face. He swallowed and turned to his Russian friend. "Ivan, I also thank you for coming here. May you have a safe journey home." He turned to his butler. "Bondevik, will you see Ivan out?"_

_Lukas nodded hesitantly. _

_Turning back to his father, __Mathias and the king ran up the flight of stairs to the third floor where the ruined potrait hung._

_With his master and the king out of sight, Lukas shot a hostile glare at Ivan. "You did that, did you not?"_

_One... Two... Three... Ivan pressed his hands together and produced strong and lethargic claps. "Well done." __He showed Lukas his steel pipe once again. "I may have not gotten the chance to use this on you, but it proved to have other uses."_

_Lukas looked at the other with raised eyebrows. _

_Ivan shook his head and laughed a sarcastic laugh. "So what if I did it, Лукас? What will you do about it?" The Russian snorted. He first waited for a response, but as expected there was none, and so he continued. "Just like I said, 'only words and no actions'." Placing a hand on his chest, he then added. "The prince trusts me, as a friend, so h__e would never suspect that it was me. _I know he trusts you too, but as what? A mere servant?" 

_"..."_

_Ivan glared down at the butler. "Hmph, are you not going to do your pathetic job? I have no more time to waste."_

_Wordlessly, Lukas opened the front door._

_"Just r__emember your place, boy." _

_Before Lukas could even reply, Ivan was long gone and the door was already closed. He kept his grip on the door handle, the ice cold sensation lingering in his touch. __He thought he was used to it. He wasn't. Ivan was right. Everything Ivan said was right. How was he going to be the prince's butler when he could not stand up to Ivan? _

_______Even with Ivan presence out of the room, the cold words of the Russian never left his mind. He wished the coldness would just coil its cadaverous arms around him, constrict him, and consume him. He wouldn't mind. The air was already thick as it is; he would suffocate either way._

___Word after word flooded in his mind. The same tormenting feeling exploaded in his stomach and he groaned in agony. His grip grew tighter and tighter until his hand turned red from the pressure and blue from numbness. Oh, how the colours would eventually mix and it would turn purple! Purple! __Herregud_, how those purple eyes haunted him!

_____'Just r__emember your place, boy.'_

_____Yes. _

_____Lukas would never forget his place._

_____Never._

* * *

___~To the kings, purple is the symbol of royalty~_

___~To the butler, purple is the symbol of tragedy~_


	8. The Best Man

"Bondevik?" Mathias opened a door and peered inside. He frowned. It was the same result he had been getting for the past half an hour: nothing. The Dane mumbled profanities under his breath as he closed the door to what seemed to be the twenty fourth door he checked.

He walked to the next room and griped onto the door handle. _Please be here. Please be here. Please be here. _After roughly opening the door, he entered and scanned the room. "Bondevik?" He called out. Much to his bad luck, there was still no sight of his butler.

Irritated and exhausted, Mathias approached the bed in the middle of the room and collapsed with a 'thud'. A sigh passed his lips and he flipped his body so that he was facing the ceiling. He closed his eyes and rested as to regain his strength. Twenty five rooms - entered and left. Half the palace - inspected. Three floors - roamed and checked.

_"No... Please..."_

Mathias' eyes bolted open. His heartbeat instantly quickened at the familiarity of the voice. "Bondevik?" He got up and ran out of the room. "Bondevik?!"

_"Ah! Stop..."_

He bursted into the adjacent room and yelled, "Bondevik, where are you?!"

He entered and left each passing room, the sounds replaying in his mind like a distant memory, and with each passing room he searched with more force and urgency. And as he opened each door with more force and urgency, his calls grew more desperate; and as his calls grew more desperate, the burning sensation which stinged the inner walls of his sore, parched throat had intensified.

_"Stop!"_

Entering another room, his head dropped and he called out faintly, "Bondevik..." After raising his head, it had struck him that he was inside his bedroom. Suddenly, a small, frail figure shuffled on his bed. This caused Mathias to take a few steps forward and peer at the animate lump on his bed.

"Bondevik?"

* * *

_"If your butler is caught doing any of the following: performs their job poorly, disrespects your possessions and relations, disobeys your orders, then, report to me - they would be terminated from their position immediately. Do you understand?"_

* * *

This whole time, his butler was in his room. On his bed. Curled up. Unmoving. _Was I imagining those words? _It took one look: one look at his butler's calm countenance and the words of his father vanished from his mind. He didn't care about the rules. As long as his butler was safe, to Mathias, the rule was invalid.

Mathias sat on a free space beside his butler. The man looked so different when he was asleep. The usual dull expression he wore was replaced by a much softer, more gentle and child-like expression. His low and sad eyes were no longer visible, but hidden under thin eyelids and long dark eyelashes. Cheeks that were once as pale as fresh snow were now stained a rosy pink. And hair like melted butter transformed into fine stands of gold, carefully spun and sprawled on the prince's pillows.

He stretched out a hand and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from his butler's face. His hand trailed lower and it landed on the man's cheeks. It was intensely hot, like touching the centre of a candle aflame, or even the feeling when he swallowed thickly in an attempt to hydrate his throat; but unlike his throat, the skin was smooth.

His fingers trailed lower until it reached the corner of the man's lips. How can it be that a man, whose face carried a canvas of despondency wherever he walked, was able to paint anew, and give it features that even a man can find attractive?

At the thought, his heartbeat raced, faster than before, and at the same time his own cheeks flushed at this unknown emotion. Mathias pulled his hand away from his butler's face and involuntarily got up. As he stared at his hand, the warmth that touched his skin faded all too quickly.

Observing the man's peaceful form one last time, he smiled, and left the room to make his way back to the main hall.

* * *

BAM! The large doors swung open in a rapid motion.

A large man entered the palace hall. He was well-dressed: his formal attire consisted of a simple white shirt, a three piece Armani suit in the colour of rough iron, and, standing straight at the centre of his outfit, a purple silk tie, which not only complemented his suit, but also perfectly accentuated the iris surrounding his stony, dark pupils.

Mathias turned to the man that grabbed the attention of his guests. In an instant, his countenance filled with ardour and surprise, and he lifted his arms wide in the air. "Ivan! How late you are!"

The said man approached the prince and bowed. "Sorry for my late arrival, but I no longer have a cousin that bothers me constantly."

"A different yet similar excuse! Anyway, I am glad my best man can attend my engagement - ah!" Mathias introduced the princess beside him. "This is Princess Erika - my fiancée."

"I am Ivan Braginski - Best Man." The man bowed curtly before the princess.

"Best man..." Suddenly, Erika's chest rose, and her eyes grew wider. She turned to her financé. "Is this true?"

"Yes," Mathias replied. His eyes dropped with concern at Erika's actions. "Is there a problem?"

Erika shifted her gaze towards the Russian; purple meeting purple; silver hair shining at silver hair. When the prince looked at her with his expression, her chest lowered and her eyes returned to their normal state. She shook her head. "No. I was just wondering. How did you two meet?"

Pumped up with energy, Mathias beemed and he rambled on with his story. His was so concentrated in his story, he didn't notice Erika's eyes drift away from him and again focus on Ivan, which in turn, was quickly reciprocated. Erika completely blanked out; she could no longer hear her fiancé's voice. Neither could Ivan. They stared long and deep into each other's glistening eyes, those which were filled with total understanding of one another.

* * *

_"My dear cousin, are you well?"_

* * *

Half way through his story, Mathias noticed their seemingly odd connection. With a hint of anger, he broke the connection by asking:

"Do you know each other?"

* * *

_"Yes, very well."_

* * *

Erika was the one to turn away from Ivan's gaze. She held up Mathias' hand with both of her hands and directed it to her chest. "My prince, do not be mistaken. I did not notice earlier, but as I looked carefully into the eyes of Ivan Braginski I noticed... that is my cousin," Purple clashed with purple again as Erika turned to Ivan. "whom I have not met for over five years."

Mathias' jaw dropped. The jealousy that was slowly boiling in Mathias began to simmer upon hearing their relationship. "Ivan, is this true?' His expressioned changed from shock to delight when he recieved a nod in confirmation, and he held out a friendly hand to Ivan, who gladly a shook it with as much vigor the other. "I say, we were already family before even knowing it!"

"Quite right! This is a great coincidence considering that you, my friend, is engaged to my cousin - my cousin who bothers me constantly!"

"Erika is the cousin you speak of? Oh, Ivan, then why did you introduce yourself to your own cousin?!" Mathias asked with as much exclamation.

Ivan turned to Erika. "Because... I was starting to get worried when my dear Erika did not notice her own cousin upon his arrival. Maybe if she informed me regarding her engagement, she would not have looked so surprised."

Mathias rolled his head back and let out a merry laugh. A waiter passed by with a plate of Scandanavian delicacies and Mathias reached over the plate to grab a portion. "Ivan, you must immediately accompany me to the garden! There are many things I need to tell you-"

When he turned back around, Ivan and Erika had vanished, and it was not long before Mathias' buoyant demeanor vanished too. His body stood still, like an unstirred, towering mountain, his vision fixed ahead. He paid no attention to the guests that approached him, nor did he give his empty wine glass to the waiters that repeatedly passed by. Time had never passed by quicker in his entire life because when he snapped back to reality, the party had ended, the guests had left, and he was the only remaining person in the room.


	9. Fire and Snow

_Winter._

_It was Princess Erika's favourite season. She knew that not all countries were able to experience this festive season, and so she considered herself lucky. There were many other reasons as to why it was her favourite season. _

_Firstly, it was cold, and so wrapping oneself in a thick duvet was considered practical. Secondly, it was perfect to indulge oneself in a hot beverage such as hot chocolate (her parents didn't let her drink coffee). Thirdly, due to heavy snowfall, her school was either closed or lessons were cancelled. __But for a child, the most awaited Christmas present did not come from their friends or their parents, but from Mother Nature - snow. It rarely snowed on Christmas day, but just in case it did, Erika would wait for hours by the window sill, just staring at the sky, never faltering a blink. So, when she saw the first snowflake to land on the window, a flow of adrenaline would course through her veins; she would be outside in an instant. But for any other winter morning i__t was her usual custom to wake up early, run downstairs, and sit by the warm fireplace, and every now and then glancing at the window to check if it was snowing. _

_But she was twelve years old. __The exciting buzz that shot up her spine was cut off long ago. She did not know when it became less excitable, or how she gradually lost interest. Maybe seeing snow for the first time was like getting a new toy: you have be on the constant lookout for it, or else a fortunate somebody will steal it from your eyes. But on the circumstance that you do see it, you suddenly feel relieved because all you would do for the rest of the day is play with it... until you realise that you would have to see it every other day, and it's not as interesting as seeing and playing with it for the first time.__  
_

_The young princess tiptoed her way down the cold staircase and into the low-lit living room. Ebony furniture could be spotted in the large room in all places, from the arched fireplace to the bookcases that lined side by side against the walls, packed with dusty, antique books. It made the room dark and gloomy. There was a small but comfortable divan in front of the fireplace, to which she approached it and gracefully sat on it. _

_There was a knock at the door._

_Irritated from being disturbed, Erika sulkily got up for her sitting position and headed towards the front door. Who would come here at six o'clock in the morning?! She unlocked the door and opened it with caution. She remembered Father telling her stories about this colossal man, who would knock on people's doors and say he was a distant relative. The man would act all happy and compassionate, embracing the victim and telling the victim just how he longed to see them. And, if by chance the victim plays along, the man would enter the house, lock the door, and everything would end terribly (she did not know the details). Of course, it was only a myth._

_The princess was caught be surprise. The door flung open due to the violent gust of wind. Her surprise grew even more when she saw who was behind the door._

_"My dear cousin, are you well?" _

_Ivan!_

_"Yes, very well," Erika replied. She immediately shut the door and lead __Ivan to the living room. Honestly, at the moment she saw him she wanted to hug him and never let go - but obviously as a princess she must act refined - for fear that Ivan may judge her. She watched as he collapsed onto the divan, his cheeks were red and his breathing was fast, as if he had been running away from something._

_"Why are you here?" She then asked. "Not that it's weird. Well, it is. It's six o'clock in the morning."_

_After getting sufficient rest, Ivan propped himself up, using his sturdy arms to support his weight. "Don't tell me you cannot see the storm outside? I was looking for shelter, and luckily I passed by your house." He lifted his chin up and motioned it to the window beside him._

_Erika approached the window. It was true. Looking out she could see the wooden fence outside shaking frantically, and in the distance, multiple trees swaying their bodies erratically, with some even bending far in a 90 degree angle._

_ "Do you know the Prince of Denmark?"_

_Caught be surprise at the random question, Erika stood still._

_"No. I do not. Who is he?"_

_Erika waited a while for a reply. She actually knew a small amount of information about the Prince, due to her father having some sort of interest in the Danish kingdom (she did not know what - Denmark seemed like an ordinary and boring place to her). She also knew (from eavesdropping on her father's conversations with the Danish king) that the Prince was a few years older than her. Erika turned to look at Ivan. Now that she thought about it, Ivan may be around the Prince's age. _

_"You still have not told me who the Prince-"_

_Without warning, she was pulled down to Ivan's lap. Erika blushed at this._

_"Remember when you said you wanted to be a queen like your mother?"_

_Erika nodded. "Last year. I told you. As my birthday wish." She completely forgot about the unanswered previous question._

_"Indeed you did-_

___Ivan smiled and placed his gloved hand by her cheek. _

_- and one day you will become a queen. I will do everything I can to make it happen. I promise you," _

_He leaned over, and, after pulling the girl by the chin, locked his icy lips with her blazing ones._

_At the unexpected contact, Erika's bright purple eyes expanded in an expression of bewilderment, and she tried to resist; but when Ivan noticed this he only further deepened the kiss. They battled over domination, __as if the contrasting temperatures battled to overpower one another, like watching a large lump of snow slowly melt in the arms of a low flame._

_In a rush to catch some air, Erika hastily broke the kiss, shying away as her __cheeks radiated a pinkish glow.__ She reached up to touch her now moist and temperate lips. ____At first, she was at a loss of words. It was all too wild, and random, and spontaneous. It was her first kiss. Her first kiss! And she shared it with Ivan! Her cousin! Something felt very wrong to her: __Erika had always thought the act of kissing was solely performed between people who were in love. Like Mother and Father. Or Romeo and Juliet. _

___"What was that for?" Erika breathed, still avoiding Ivan's face. _

_"To seal the promise," Ivan replied plainly._

_"Promise?" The seven letter word resonated in her head. "I don't understand." _

_____Ivan chuckled at the look of obscurity in Erika's face, and in a low whisper, asked, "You do want me to keep my promise, da? Of becoming queen? I also do not want you to forget."_

_She thought for a moment. She was not sure, but thought he may have intended to perform a sweet act, like those moments in the movies where the man would be off in a long, adventurous journey, but before he left he would give the woman a memento, such as in a form of a necklace, or a bracelet, or a ring; and he would tell her that she should think of him every day. Except the memento was in a form of a kiss. There was no love involved. Only promises. Oh, how ignorant was she to think it was out of love..._

_Erika nodded slowly at the other's question, and then gradually quickened the pace as if she was suddenly struck with understanding (in reality she did not understand)._

_Ivan smiled and once again he captured the girl's lips again; he__ was again in control and Erika could not do anything but submit to the foreign feeling. Erika __muffled a moan. __Ivan parted from the intense kiss and t____hey simultaneously breathed out, looked down, a fog casting over their reddened faces._

___'This is a promise.'_

_____When Erika turned to look at Ivan, she saw that he had laid down on the divan. Whatever Ivan meant, Erika knew what she did was not wrong. Because Ivan was helping her to become queen. And she had to remember his promise. There a long silence in the room. Not much could be heard but the blurry sound of the wind still raging outside and the burning of logs in the fireplace, as well as the sizzling noise of the embers that desperately tried to escape its wrath. _


End file.
